


That Goodneighbor Soul

by MixterGlacia



Series: Hepcat History [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Daisy the Town Grandma, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-31
Updated: 2017-01-31
Packaged: 2018-09-21 03:53:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9530411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MixterGlacia/pseuds/MixterGlacia
Summary: Hancock doesn't worry. Daisy knows he does.





	

Hancock wasn’t a nanny. He didn’t fuss over folks. He wasn’t one to hover over you. He had important mayoral things to worry about! Not to mention a healthy (he stressed -healthy-) chem habit to feed. So, no. He wasn’t worried.

* * *

 

That’s what he was telling himself anyways. How true it may have been was a subjective thing. There was only one person in Goodneighbor you could trust to give you the truth in matters like this.

 

Daisy.

 

Said ghoul was all smirks when Hancock breezed into her shop for the second time that day, (Fourteenth that week but who’s counting? Daisy. Daisy’s counting.) asking about a can of purified water. He tried to not be bothered by it, but damn it she just looked at you and you couldn’t help but spill the beans about whatever she so desired to talk about.

 

“What’s with the face Daisy?” He said, trying to keep it casual.

“Hmm?” Her eyes narrowed, subtly challenging him. She was good.

“You keep smirkin’.” He mused while he fished the caps out of one of his pockets.

 

“I’m known to do that.” Too. Good.

 

Hancock also noticed that she’d neglected to set his purchase out on the counter like normal. He took the bait, though not without a touch of hemming and hawing. “ You onto something I’m not?” He fished a smoke out of his jacket to give himself a distraction. It took him a moment to realize that he’d left his lighter up with his boys.

 

“He’s one lucky fella.” Daisy didn’t bat an eyelash. Not that she had any, but still. Instead, she slid a lighter over to him. To some it was a friendly gesture. He called it a bribe.

“You feel like clarifying who Mr. Lucky is?” He mumbled around the cigarette as he lit it, politely blowing the smoke away from the quick witted dame.

“Logan.”

“Paddy, now.” He corrected before he really had time to stop himself. “He, uh, wants to go by Paddy now.”

“Just like good old times, huh?” How long was she bent on stringing him along like this?

 

Hancock decided to nod instead of voicing his frustration. “I guess so, yeah.” But how do you mean, lucky?” A little nudge (IE: shove) back towards the tracks couldn’t hurt...much.

Daisy idly played with one of the caps on her counter. “Got you and Nick to worry over him.”

“I don’t worry.” It was too quick and he knew his fate was sealed.

“That would be why he’s so lucky, sugar.” That smirk was back in place. “Made -you- worry.”

 

“Almost dying isn’t something a guy takes lightly, Daisy.”

She tuts at him. “Who says we’re taking this lightly? I’m fretting over my favorite customer too. KL-E-0′s been pacing,” She says this second point quietly, knowing the well tuned audios of her easy to offend neighbor. “Charlie’s even been in a tizzy over all this.” The ghoul leans on her hands, eyes pinning him to the spot. “He’s got Goodneighbor in his soul.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

The look on her face was hard to figure out. “He might have a body from that Vault, but his soul is Goodneighbor through and through.” A tinge of wistfulness creeps into her voice. “He doesn’t have to be here, but still he comes to us. Even after you chased his shadows out the door, still he comes.” 

He forgot how well spoken she could be if she wanted to. Woman could have written books if she wanted to. Or if more of the Commonwealth could actually read. 

 

“I pointed this out to him, Hancock. You know what he tells me?”

He makes a noise to encourage her to continue. 

 

“Guy said, ‘Miss Daisy, Nobody but Val’ knows this, but I sought Goodneighbor out. I’d been studying my map and there was this small patch of darkness on the road from Diamond City to Bunker Hill that I’d never found. I know it sounds silly, but I just felt this pull to go find what was there. I was wandering in circles for a few days before I found it, but when I saw the neon, there was a little part of me that just knew this place meant something.’ “ She paused to let it sink in.

 

“...Pad’ said that much in one go?”

The lady laughed, her shoulders shaking with it. “More or less.” She admits, once her composure is regained.

 

“Fuck, that must’ve been why he was so pissed off with Finn! He was out of it from all the running around, then here comes this dickweed trying to pull a fast one on h-”

The other ghoul cleared her throat.

“Sorry.” Mumbled Hancock.

 

“S’okay, sugar. He had one last bit to add.” She had the mayor right where she wanted him now. “Said: ‘Now I know it’s where I was needed.’ then I’d said something about passing this along to you, and he got all flustered. So I didn’t, at least, not til you really needed to hear it.” She smiled. “What I’m getting at here, Mayor, is he -needs- that worry of yours. He takes it and turns it into more good for the town.” Her expression became a little more serious. “How long has it been since we lost Kent?”

That one threw him for a loop. “I- uhm,- I think it’s been about a month?”

“You know that’s been chewing away at him.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah...” He started gently. “He and I buried him.”

“Might be time to go visit the grave.” She didn’t give him the opportunity to get a word in. “He needs to grieve, Johnny. It doesn’t have to be a big deal. Let him go at it how he needs.”  Her face softens. “I want you to take that worry you’ve been feeling over him and use it to make our boy shine again.” 

 

Hancock rubbed at his arm. “Damn Daisy...how long have you been waiting to tell me this?”

“There’s no waiting about this. I told you right when you needed a good kick in the pants.” She rasped, then leaned down, lightly setting the can of water in front of him. “Tell him he needs to visit me first when he can start getting around on his own again. Oh-” A familiar tin slides across the counter. “These are for him, berry’s his-”

“Favorite.” Hancock felt his insides twist a little. A faint smile ghosts across his face. “He was down to everything but orange. These’ll make him one happy ghoul Daisy.”

 

“I know.” She’d settled back into that smirk of hers. “Now get outta here you scoundrel.”

* * *

 

So there he was. Perched on a chair by the bed where they were having Paddy recover. He’d already made the peace offering of Mentats (Nick rolled his optics at this.) and retold bits of what Daisy had said. He’d decided to leave Kent out of it for now.

 

Then Nick had glanced over, waiting for a reaction too. He’d been a little baffled by one of the phrases she’d used in her description of the new ghoul. “Pardon my askin’...what’s Daisy mean with the whole Goodneighbor soul bit?”

“I dunno, probably exactly what she said? He’s from the vault but was meant for here?” Hancock hated playing the middle man. This’d be easier if Daisy had tagged along.

“Hope you’ll forgive me, but Pad’s too...” The synth paused, thinking something over. “he’s too, uh-well, -good- to be all ‘Goodneighbor’ at heart.”

 

The man in question cracked open one eye to glance at the tall fellow. “Doubt that’s her meaning.”

The two of them had long since accepted that Paddy usually could hear them, even if he seemed to be sleeping, or in another room, though it still caught them off guard. 

 

“Go on then.” Nick prompts. “Share with the class.”

 

“One, never been an angel, if that wasn’t clear. Two, she means this is my home.” He tried to sit up a bit, pain knitting his brow. “She didn’t need to make me sound like a hepcat.”

Hancock glanced at Nick, unsure of what that term meant. The synth mouthed, ‘I’ll tell you later.’

 

“What about Sanctuary?” The detective questioned. 

 

“Stopped being home after the bombs.”

* * *

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> [hep-kat] 
> 
> noun, Older Slang.
> 
> 1.a performer or admirer of jazz, especially swing.
> 
> 2.a person who is hep; hipster.


End file.
